Saving You
by ProjectLeda
Summary: "There were some nights, usually the nights she was off duty, when Claire felt like she was being watched. Several times she had tip-toed to the fire escape, only to find it completely vacant. He could have been there though; she wouldn't put it past him." A murder at Metro General Hospital leads to Claire's arrest while Nelson and Murdock represent the victim's family.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All the characters and story lines you recognize belong to Marvel's Daredevil.**

It had been three months since Claire last saw him. Sure, she saw the pictures of Hell Kitchen's Daredevil quite regularly in the newspapers and heard people talk about how they saw a shadow in the night while passing a dark alley and thought it must be the masked vigilante safeguarding their neighborhood. She had also learned about his new armor, this too through the extensive articles local newspapers loved to do about him along with some shaky, pixilated images captured through CCTV, but all that wasn't enough. It wasn't like seeing him at all.

Upon returning back to the city almost a month ago, she had relocated to a different neighborhood, though she still worked at Metro General, patching up the ones he had either beaten up or saved. The saved usually didn't need much patching up. It was the most wounded ones, the ones with several cracked ribs and broken teeth that made her realize over and over again the mess she had left behind. It reminded her that she got out at the right time, even though she commended what he did, mostly.

There were some nights, usually the nights she was off duty, when she felt like she was being watched. Like someone out there was keeping an eye on her, listening in on her heartbeat, but she never saw someone. Several times she had tip-toed to the fire escape, only to find it completely vacant. He could have been there though; she wouldn't put it past him.

She still had the burner phone. She charged it religiously and kept it close to her at all times, for the sake of her own safety, she told herself, but deep within, she knew it was for him. After all, she had promised to be there for him and to patch him up. She had already fallen short on one of the two.

Ever since her return, she had dialed his number multiple times, but never had the courage to go through with it. What was the point anyways? They couldn't be anything. Their relation – if they ever would have had one – would not go anywhere. She worried about him all the time, but the fact that he hadn't called her yet provided a solace, a weird certainty that he wasn't getting hurt as often as he used to.

A few weeks ago, she had seen one of his friends – his _only_ friend to be precise – exiting a bar.

Foggy, she remembered his name and his worried voice the night he had called her up, using Matt's burner phone. She had nearly had a heart attack when she heard someone else's voice through her phone, telling her that Matt was bleeding out at his own apartment, that he might be dead if she didn't do something, anything, quickly.

She had turned away the moment she saw Foggy. He was with a tall blonde woman, though she couldn't see her features. She didn't stop long enough to look, trying to get out of there as soon as she could. Why? She asked herself later that night. Why did she run away? She could have stayed. She might have seen him too. Or, she could've just ignored Foggy and the blonde and gone in the bar.

It was a Friday night, a few days after the bar incident when she got a call from the hospital. It was her night off, so she knew it must have been something big for her to be called in at this hour. She went in, just to find out one of her patients – a young girl who had been in coma for quite some time now – had stopped breathing.

It all came as a big shock to her. The girl was fine when she saw her just a few hours ago. Her vital was perfectly normal, in fact, she was showing some response. But it was all gone now.

There was a part of her that also suspected some foul play. The little girl was supposedly a witness to her mother's murder after all, but there was nothing she could now. The police were here, and some of the girl's family too. From the tidbits she had heard over the last few weeks, she knew that someone broke into the little girl's house and killed her mother – a single mom in her early thirties. The detective thought it might be an ex but they couldn't tell for sure. The young girl had suffered serious injuries while reportedly trying to escape through the balcony.

Claire sighed with exhaustion as she signed off the papers, a mandatory procedure since the girl was in her care. Her hands were shaking, she realized with a start. All these years watching people die and she still couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes. Another light snuffed out, another innocent falling prey to a monster who didn't deserve to be called a human.

Moments like these were when she truly praised Matt for what he was doing – for trying to make a difference, and for succeeding, to some extent.

The hospital waiting area was crowded with police officers and journalists and the young girl's left over family. She was trying to locate the grandmother, the woman who was staying at the hospital with the girl, when she heard it.

She heard it voice and for a second she thought she was imagining. Perhaps she was too exhausted. But there it was again, loud and clear, possibly just few meters away from her. Although she immediately toyed with the idea of slipping away unnoticed, she knew that he was aware of her. If she was able to hear him now, imagine how long he must have known she was here.

Breathing in, she turned around to face the source of the voice and finally saw him. He looked well, dressed in a gray suit with his glasses on – just like a regular, normal blind person. Foggy was with him too, and so was the blonde girl she had seen at the bar or at least Claire thought it was her.

She watched as Matt said something to Foggy and then turned towards her, his expression grim yet sharp.

"Temple, you'll need to answer some of their questions," she heard the head nurse say and she realized it was her who was talking to Matt. "It's about Kaitlin, the young girl who died while in coma. These gentlemen just need to ask about her recovery process I suppose."

Claire looked from the head nurse to Matt, who stood there like she was a stranger to know him.

"Why? Her vitals crashed. Why is there an investigation going on?" she asked in a steady voice. Was there more to this death than what looked like?

"Kaitlin Farris was under your care Ms Temple, we just need to know if her condition was deteriorating or otherwise," Matt spoke up. His one was soft yet so formal that she wanted to roll her eyes, or laugh, or both. "I'm Mathew Murdock and this is Foggy Nelson, we're Ms Farris's attorneys."

"Actually, Kaitlin's grandmother is the one who reached out to us. There may be more to this case than meets the eye," Foggy interrupted and gave a small nod before glancing at the head nurse who was still hovering around.

"Fine, we can talk in the locker room. It won't be as crowded," Claire managed finally before exiting the waiting room, her anxiety about seeing Matt slowly fading away, her heart rate returning to normal. She pulled open the door to the locker room and waited for both the men to get in before entering the small space and closing the door behind her.

"What's going on?"

"We think it's a murder Claire. The Farris family believes Kaitlin was killed by the same person who killed her mother."

The way he spoke, she could tell Matt believed the girl's family.

"You think someone slipped in and toyed with her life support?"

"Yeah, something along those lines, and we have a reason to believe that it was someone from the hospital staff that helped the killer," Matt's voice grew hard. "Kaitlin's grandmother has filed a report against you few minutes ago, she wants the police to take you in custody. She suspects you are the one who murdered her granddaughter."

Note: Please leave a review. This is the first time i have put up anything I've written for others to read.

Hope you enjoyed it. There's more to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Every character or storyline you recognize is the property of Marvel.**

Everything was going too fast and yet she saw it all happening in slow motion. It was unreal.

Matt was facing her, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses and apparently staring unseeingly at a spot just below her left ear. She could tell he was worried, and seeing him like this made her gut clench in anxiety as well.

"She was ali— she was breathing the last I saw her," it was hard to keep her voice calm, but she thought she did a pretty good job. "I logged out at 9 pm, the autopsy report would confirm the time of the death and…"

She stopped and took a deep breath. Why was she hyperventilating? She hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe it was because of him, standing there in his business suit, tapping his cane against the floor and probably waiting for her to confess a crime she didn't commit.

"I know you didn't do it, Claire," Matt said after a short pause in a grave voice while Foggy raised his eyebrows at him. "But the question is why Mrs. Farris would think you are the one who took her granddaughter's life." He tilted his head just a little and she realized he was trying to gauge her reaction. Read her heartbeat, or maybe he already had.

"Why don't you ask her this question?" Claire replied, crossing her arms and straightening her back. "It doesn't make any sense. Let me talk to her for a minute, she's confused and hurt and people tend to say stupid things when they are emotional." She would know that better than anybody else. This was nothing serious, just a simple misunderstanding that would go away once Mrs. Farris realized what she had said. It was easier to blame others in times like these, she understood that, and so should Matt and Foggy but they still seemed troubled.

"The grandma does look like she's a marble away from losing it all," Foggy spoke for the first time since entering the small locker room. "But crazy as she maybe, she's still our client–"

"Open up, it's NYPD," a loud bang on the door stopped the blonde man midsentence, and before she could move to open the door, Matt grabbed her arm, his face suddenly just inches away from hers. "Listen to me Claire, they are going to take you in. Don't say a word. They can't charge you with anything and there won't be enough proof to lock you up, yet." He had added the last part rather unwillingly. Her instinct was telling her to be scared, but she couldn't bring herself to be.

She watched as Foggy opened the door and Matt moved away from her and suddenly, the police were rushing in. A cop grasped her upper arm while the two lawyers shuffled out, leaving her to be flanked by more men in uniform who lead her out of the locker room. Someone read her out her rights, but the gasps and sirens were two loud for her to decipher anything else beside her colleagues' shock and the feeling of embarrassment and bewilderment coursing through her veins.

x-x

The ride to the precinct was a rather short one.

She had been there before a couple times actually. Once was when her younger brother got into a fight with some neighborhood kids and it got bad. She had to post his bail with the money she had saved up for her mortgage. The second was when one of her abusive ex-boyfriends was caught with drugs. That time though, she had willed herself to leave him on his own and move on.

And didn't work out too well for her, did it?

Thinking back, she never would have thought that one day she would be the one coming in to the police station with her arms behind her back and her wrists in a handcuff. The cop who had read her the rights took her to the confession room and asked her to wait. So she sat and waited – after all, there weren't many other options.

It would all soon get sorted, she reassured herself. The Russians couldn't break her; these were just some cops who were listening to an old lady's confused tale of murder and betrayal. Plus, Matt knew about it all. They may not have been on the best of terms, but he will get her out of this mess, that she was sure of.

The door opened shortly afterwards and a tall, lanky man came in. If it weren't for her current situation, she may have even called him handsome, but that thought didn't even cross her mind.

"Ms. Temple, I'm Detective Neil Larson," the man said taking a seat opposite hers. "I believe you know exactly why you're here. A woman was murdered in cold blood and her daughter, the sole witness of the horrific crime, died in a mysterious way under your care."

His tone might not have sounded accusatory to someone else, but she could tell he was trying to intimidate her in a rather subtle manner. "I have talked to your head nurse and the chief of security at the Metro General, and they both said the same thing, that you couldn't have done it. Not on purpose, at least, so Ms. Claire, before we proceed, I would like to hear your side of the story."

There was no story. She wanted to yell at him, but she didn't. Matt had told her to not say anything but she couldn't just sit there and make an enemy out of the detective.

"I saw Kaitlin a little after 8:30. Her vitals were normal and she had moved her fingers just a little," she began, her tone giving away her tiredness. "I checked on her before talking to some of my other patients in the intensive care and around 9, I logged out. I have no idea why I'm being investigated when the person responsible, if there is foul play involved, is out there."

She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. "You can't keep me here detective Larson, I had nothing to do with the girl's death," she could tell he was contemplating his next move. "Am I allowed to leave?"

Larson sighed and glanced at the two-sided mirror before looking back at her. "Ms. Temple, you have a right to call an attorney, but since you're a direct suspect in a high-profile murder investigation, I'm afraid you'll have to wait here until the autopsy report confirms the time of death and you can prove you were nowhere near the victim when she stopped breathing. Do you have an alibi for after you left the hospital?"

There wasn't anyone she had met after work. As usual, she had walked to her building and taken the stairs to her apartment. She hadn't seen or talked to anyone, which wasn't unusual. Ever since she met Matt, she had been wary of strangers.

Choosing not to answer his question, she slumped back on the seat and took a deep breath, the events of the night finally taking a toll on her. Larson closed his notepad and left soon after.

She wished she could call Matt and ask him what to do next, even though she had not listened to the advice he had given her in the first place. Her life had taken an uncertain turn after she rescued the vigilante of Hell's Kitchen from the dumpster, but try as she might, she couldn't blame this unexpected turn of events on him.

It was all just her rotten luck.

 _Authors' Note:_

 _Hi, I am overwhelmed by your lovely response. Thank you for taking out some time and reading my story._

 _The next update would be quicker. Please leave a review._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All the characters and story lines you recognize belong to Marvel. I only own the ones you haven't heard of before.**

Claire didn't expect the next few hours to be comfortable, but she also didn't anticipate the agony that came with waiting endlessly for that one piece of paper which will prove her innocence.

Someone had already come in to collect her fingerprints. A defense attorney, a woman named Jennifer Walters, had also come into see her, though Claire didn't see an immediate need for a lawyer. She'd be out of here in no time, she knew that.

However, for some absurd reason, perhaps as a precaution, Claire had told Walters that she would think about hiring her. Although she had never seen Matt in the courthouse, she just knew it won't be easy to win a case from him, and there was something about Walters that made Claire feel that the young woman would be able to hold her own if it comes to that.

Fortunately, they had removed her handcuffs, so she could at least freely pace around the small room with a cup of bad coffee in her hands, praying to God – something she hadn't done in a while – that she could soon go home, get drunk and fall asleep.

It was an early hour in the morning when Detective Larson came to see her with a file folder in his hand and a grim expression on his face.

"Please have a seat Ms. Temple, there's something we need to discuss," the man said resuming the seat on the opposite end of the cheap, wooden table. He laid the file directly in front of her and gestured for her to open it. "You're an ER nurse, which means you are well-qualified to understand what's in there."

She couldn't explain why, but her hands were shaking as she picked up the paper. She probably didn't realize, but her strong demeanor was finally beginning to crack.

"Kaitlin died quarter past nine," Claire said slowly, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows as she read the autopsy report. "Cause of death: large amount of Benzodiazepine in her system." She looked up at the detective, putting the file down. "You were right, it's a murder, but she was fine when I saw her. Someone must have tampered with her medication after I left."

Larson looked at her and she could tell he was trying to read her.

"We reviewed the CCTV footage, and the cameras and the hospital security system both place you near the front desk at the time when the doctors believe Kaitlin was injected with the sedative," he finally spoke and she felt her gut unclench. She was sad for the little girl's death, but she hadn't done anything to be guilty of. "You checked out at 9:01 pm, according to the biometric attendance software, which means you didn't kill the victim – at least not by your own hands."

Claire's voice was sharp when she spoke next. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"What it means Ms. Temple, is that the investigation has taken an unexpected turn. While we can't keep you here any longer, we can't check you off our list of potential suspects or facilitators either." Larson's tone wasn't menacing by any means, but it sent chills down her spine. "You are allowed to go now, but you can't leave the city and will have to come in for questioning if something else comes up. Also, I suggest you start looking for a lawyer." Standing up, he buttoned his coat and walked towards the door, holding it open for her.

Even though she wanted to slap him for putting her through his torture, she knew he wasn't doing it on his own accord. Those were the laws, but right now, try as she might, she couldn't give a damn. Without a second glance at Larson, she sped past him and out of the room where a cop handed her the hospital issued card they had confiscated earlier along with her purse and phones.

The feeling of fresh air on her face the moment she stepped out in the night was so refreshing; it made her want to weep. She was exceptionally strong, always had been, but the events of last night had done her in.

Twenty minutes and a cab ride later, she was entering her apartment when she realized she should at least let Matt know she was okay, but the sane part of her immediately shot down the idea.

Her apartment was dark, exactly the way she had left it, with all the lights turned off and the blinds shut closed. The one thing she didn't find the way it was supposed to be was the back window, which was not only open, there was figure looming just outside it.

"You might as well come in," Claire sighed, closing the door and throwing her things on the couch. "I should ask you how you got my address, but I'm not even gonna start on that." Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she watched as the Devil of the Hell's Kitchen soundlessly entered her small home. "What, No mask?" Her tone might have been sarcastic, but all she really wanted to do was hug him. Old habits are not that easy to let go, are they?

"Claire," his rough voice sounded like home to her, but she didn't say anything. "I found out about the autopsy report, I knew they wouldn't be able to keep you there for long." He paused to wet his lips, "How are you?"

"Seriously, Matt? After no contact for weeks we finally meet each other and you act like you don't know me," she had to let her frustration out, besides, she hadn't asked for him to come, he was the one waiting in her apartment. "Then, instead of maybe telling your client she's being completely insane, you tell me that I was going to be arrested and I shouldn't say anything to the cops. What the fuck kind of advice is that?"

Matt sat down on the opposite side of the couch with his face turned towards her, and just that look of concern made her heart flutter. Was she ever going to get over him?

"You're scared. It's a messed up situation and it might affect your over all work record," he said slowly, being the voice of reason as he always thought himself to be. "Nelson and Murdock took the Farris murder case a few days ago. Foggy and Karen had been to see Kaitlin and they said she was getting better. None of us thought the murderer would come back and kill the girl. I know I should have, but all the clues pointed to him having left the town the night of the crime."

She looked at him curiously.

"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have gotten into this mess," he added almost apologetically and something clicked in her brain.

Of course, she should've thought of it before. After all, the only thing Matt did best after confronting criminals and putting them behind bars was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"It wasn't your fault," she said matter-of-factly. "You are not responsible for everything bad that happens around you. No one could've predicted Kaitlin to die, especially when cops were keeping an eye on her at all times."

"How did she die?"

"A powerful sedative."

"How many people at the hospital have clearance for that kind of medication?" He was back in his lawyer mode and she knew they would have to discuss his guilt some other day. "Frankly, a lot of people. Metro General might be able to help you out with that," she answered with a yawn and stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm tired Matt, I need to get some sleep. I'll call you if something happens," she said softly, "if that's okay with you?"

When he smirked his goddamn smirk and told her she can call him anytime she needs, Claire realized the answer to that one question she had asked herself earlier.

No, she was never going to get over Matt Murdock.

 _Author's Note:_

 _I'm sorry for any typos or errors. I love reading your reviews, so please don't hesitate to tell me if there's something you didn't like or found confusing._

 _Also, brownie points to those who noticed the mention of an under-rated, yet amazing, Avenger in this chapter._


End file.
